


Sanctuary

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018: Hurt/Comfort edition [31]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-13 21:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16480067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: It’s been a long and tiring mission, but at the end of the day, they will always have each other.





	Sanctuary

It was impossible to retain a boundless energy for 100% of the time, especially in their line of work. This was obviously true for Illya, who, on any given day, was content to relax quietly in a chair, reading a book with one hand and petting the cat with the other.

Napoleon had always been the social butterfly, so to speak—even after a long day of work, he was always up for a night on the town. But, even for him, there were days when the lure of the comfort of the bed was far greater.

They had rubbed off on each other—Illya had learned to enjoy going out on the town, just as Napoleon had learned to enjoy sitting around doing nothing.

And they enjoyed each other’s company, for their love for each other was strong and was the most important thing—more important than whether or not they went out or stayed in.

And so, after a long, exhausting day with the promise of a weekend off (a rarity they both relished), they were both beneath the covers of the bed, ignoring the cold autumn rain that the wind was blowing upon the windows.

Inside, they were warm and safe—and together. Napoleon had a protective arm around Illya and had fallen asleep like that; Illya stayed awake for a little while longer, lulled to sleep by the comfort of his partner’s touch and the familiar smell of the bay rum he wore.

Aside from the wind and the rain, the only other sounds were from the cat, Baba Yaga, prowling around in the living room, keeping a sharp lookout to ensure that nothing—be it a bug or a THRUSHie--would invade the apartment while she was on alert.

Illya gave a quiet, contented sigh and nuzzled up against Napoleon; Napoleon awoke slightly as the blond hair tickled his chin, but he smiled, kissed him gently, and readjusted his arm around him. As much as he would have liked to suggest something more intimate, he knew they were both in need of sleep more than anything. And, anyway, there was always tomorrow morning. With this in mind, Napoleon was soon asleep once again.

Illya was generally not one to make wishes—he usually didn’t believe in that sort of thing, after all.

But as he, too, found himself drifting off to sleep in the comforting warmth of his partner’s embrace, he found himself wishing that this would be something that the two of them could enjoy forever.


End file.
